


I've Been Failing You

by mishackles



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 11.14 coda, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Coda, Implied Castiel/Dean Winchester, M/M, POV Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-20
Updated: 2016-02-20
Packaged: 2018-05-22 01:55:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6066235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mishackles/pseuds/mishackles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean can't understand why Cas would say yes. How could he say yes? (11.14 coda)</p>
            </blockquote>





	I've Been Failing You

**Author's Note:**

> [title from the nathaniel rateliff song ](https://www.google.com/url?sa=t&rct=j&q=&esrc=s&source=web&cd=1&cad=rja&uact=8&ved=0ahUKEwi1_qC08obLAhVT1GMKHX0mCmMQyCkIITAA&url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3DBVv-RaAo2XM&usg=AFQjCNH3xAovS7R6tb-FIEpMVnvdVoWm_g&sig2=mlt55Rmd1S4lTg-19P0C9g&bvm=bv.114733917,d.cGc)

Dean doesn’t even try to sleep. He knows that even if he could coax himself into unconsciousness he wouldn't get any rest. He'd dream of the coldness behind Lucifer's eyes and his malicious smirk as he wore Castiel’s face. It wasn't long ago that those eyes and smile were a source of comfort and peace for him. Now when he thought of them he only felt a sinking weight in his gut, like a hot coal sinking through him, tearing him apart.

About a half hour past three in the morning Dean makes his way to the kitchen. He needs a drink. He had confided in Cas. Had told him all about Amara. He should have known something was wrong. Cas’s reaction was all wrong. He hadn't reacted in concern like Dean expected. He's acted like their connection was an asset that they could exploit to stop Amara. Dean hadn't gotten the comfort of a friend he'd sought out. He had been treated like a tool, a weapon. Exactly how Cas feels, apparently. Dean gets a glass from the cupboard and a fifth of whiskey out from under the sink where he stores it and poured himself a generous amount. Sam had told Dean what Cas had said to him the few moments he was able to hold off Lucifer. “Of service” that's what he said. He wanted to be of service to the fight like he was useless unless helping reach a goal. “Dammit Cas,” Dean spat, his voice sounding small in the empty kitchen. His glass was empty. He refilled it.

Lucifer must have said something, anything, to Cas to trick him into saying yes. Because there’s no way that Cas would have willingly let him in. "Cas, you had to know that to Sammy and me you're family." Dean half-prays half-curses. "We were in this fight together. You had to know that, Cas. Know that I-" Dean's voice breaks off, unable to finish. But Cas had to know, right? How could he not? Dean should have told him, made it more obvious. He should have grabbed Cas by that stupid coat and made sure that Cas knew he needed him, would always need him, no matter how useful he was. He should have grabbed Cas and never let go. He could fill a book with all the “should haves," but it’s too late now.

He takes his glass and bottle and heads to the library, but he stopped dead in his tracks when he turns the corner. A sob escaped without Dean’s permission and the glass slips out of his finger and shatters on the ground. Sitting there draped across a chair is Castiel's trench coat. Lucifer hadn't been wearing it when Sam banished him. Something fierce inside Dean awakens. Suddenly he's so filled with rage he's seeing red. With a scream, Dean hurls the bottle of alcohol at the wall. It explodes with a deafening crash. Dean’s ears ring in the aftermath of the chaos. He feels all the fight leave him, and he stumbles forward and braces himself against the table for support. His head is throbbing and his eyes sting with tears he is trying to hold back. He collapses into the first chair in fear that he’ll pass out if he stands any longer. He runs his hands through his hair as he mutters to himself. “Stupid bastard. Stupid, stupid bastard,” He isn’t sure if he’s talking to himself or Cas. It doesn’t really matter he figures.

He turns to face the coat resting on the chair next to him. It was sitting there so casually. Like Cas had just left it there while he went into another room. Dean tentatively reached out a shaking hand to touch it. He almost expected it to shock him, but the fabric was worn and soft under his fingers. "Cas," he said in a hushed voice as if the coat was his phone line to the angel. "We're gonna save you. You hear me? I'm gonna bring you home. I promise.

 

**Author's Note:**

> i'm[toomuchheart](http://toomuchheart.tumblr.com/) on tumblr


End file.
